


Spark Plugs

by firefly (firefly63)



Series: Denim, Cars, and Sizzle [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly63/pseuds/firefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally published in "Senses of Wonder 3: Better than Whiskey", by BlackJag Publishing, 2005</p>
    </blockquote>





	Spark Plugs

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in "Senses of Wonder 3: Better than Whiskey", by BlackJag Publishing, 2005

* * *

Warm air ghosted across his jeans-clad groin. He waited a moment. When he didn’t feel it again, he resumed loosening the bolt on the oil pan. The oil flowed out in a steady rush. Again, warm air penetrated cloth. He paused. Nothing. With a shrug, he picked up the oil filter wrench and fitted it around the filter. More warm air ghosted over his groin. Stifling a moan, he jerked on the wrench and broke the filter free. Attention split between his task and anticipating the next tantalizing breath of air, he quickly unscrewed the filter and set it in the drain pan. He wasn’t prepared for the scorching heat that cupped his nipples through his denim shirt. He yelped and jerked, nearly banging his head on the undercarriage of his truck. Before he could do anything else, hands clenched in his shirt, right over his sensitized nipples and yanked him, creeper and all, out from under the vehicle. 

Wide-eyed, Jim stared up into the face of a not so innocent-looking angel. An angel whose expression was positively wicked as he lay there with hands still clenched over Jim's nipples. 

"You have to stop doing this."

"What?"

"You know what the sight of you in denim does to me."

"I thought that was only when I was bent over a fender."

"Well, not just a fender it seems. You lay on this little wheeled creeper, half under the truck, knees spread, all wrapped in butter-soft denim. How am I supposed to resist doing this?" Jim gasped as wet heat enveloped the quickly filling bulge in his jeans. He gasped again when the heat left him.

"Yeah, Jim panted, I guess you have a point." He moaned when the hands clenched in his shirt shifted their grip. Words were lost to him then as his tormenter swung his leg over Jim's knees and snuggled his ass into the cradle of his groin and thighs, still maintaining his almost painful grip on Jim's shirt.

Youre gonna love this, baby. I have such plans for you.

Jim swallowed, almost afraid.

The grip on his shirt and consequently his nipples was abruptly removed. He groaned at the almost painful sensation.

The ass snuggled into his crotch raised up, and he both heard and felt his zipper being undone. His shirt was opened and spread wide. Fingers latched onto his nipples through his t-shirt, twisting and plucking, and Jim writhed and bucked, unable to find breath to protest or beg. His t-shirt was yanked up and over his face, pinning his arms above his head. Jim arched his back and shouted incoherently when those scorching hands plucked again at his abused nipples. He was left heaving for air as the hands left the nubs and trailed down his sides. Expert fingers fished out his aching hard cock from the folds of his underwear, and he whimpered softly as a thumb gently circled the head, gathering the slickness there. The hands returned to his chest, the anointed thumb circled his sensitized nipples. Jim thrashed feebly, his vision graying out.

The weight sitting on him momentarily left. When it returned, his cock was engulfed in a vice-like inferno. Groaning deeply, he began to thrust. Heat. Cool air. Heat. Cool air. It was dizzying. Wetness lapped at his swollen, abused nipples as his cock plunged once more into molten heat. It was too much. With a strangled yell he exploded.

When Jim came back to earth and opened his eyes, worried blue eyes gazed back at him. The t-shirt had been pulled down and his arms lowered. Blair still straddled him; his cock still nestled in Blair's ass. Smiling indolently, he lifted his arms to embrace Blair; surprised at the effort it took.

"Are you okay, Jim?"

"Absolutely, mind-blowingly, wonderful," he murmured. Blair went boneless with relief. 

"Why?"

"Jim, man, you've been completely out of it for almost twenty minutes."

"Ah, that explains why I dont want to move."

"Uh, duh. God, Jim, if I'd known this was going to happen, I would never have done it."

A deep rumbling chuckle emerged from him. Blair bounced with the movement of his chest. "You loved it, Sandburg, and you know it. If anything, I'm the one who should be running scared, here."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because now you know all it takes to lay me out cold, is to check my spark plugs."

Blair blinked. Jim grinned. They both started laughing.

"Oh, yeah. I'm never going to look at a spark plug the same way again."

Jim pulled Blairs head down and kissed him soundly. "Neither will I," he whispered against full lips. "Neither will I."

fini

* * *

Feeback? [firefly@skeeter63.org](mailto:firefly@skeeter63.org?subject='Spark%20Plugs')


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